Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (3 page)

“I clearly understand what you are telling me,” Ava was saying, sounding like a grown-up trying to explain to a toddler why cookies before dinner weren’t good. “But all you have really done is state over and over the fact that being at White Farm is dangerous for me. You haven’t told me why, despite my repeatedly asking you. So, either tell me, or let me go. Frankly, you should be glad I haven’t called 911 on you. Yet.”

Sean was genuinely starting to like Ava, in addition to wanting her in every way a man could want a woman. She was smart. She was tough. She sounded very educated, just the way she spoke, the words she used, the confidence behind them. He found himself wanting to spend less time arguing with her about White Farm and more time finding out all about her.

“You can’t call the police,” Robert said calmly. “The cell phone in your pocket is dead.”

Ava jumped in her chair, a pungent spike of cinnamon fear filling the room.

“What…” she sputtered. “How did you know? You’re just guessing. You can’t know for sure.”

“I know that because you were in the woods,” Robert replied. “Nothing electronic ever works in the woods.”

“My battery was low before I went out,” Ava said firmly. “It died because it ran out of power. Being in the woods had nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t go in the woods again, Ava,” Declan said quietly. “Please.”

“All right,” she snapped, standing up. “This has gone far enough. I have been patient. I have let you have your fun with your paranoia, but now, I’m tired. I’m hungry. I have things to do. I want to go home. So, who is going to drive me, as I don’t suppose there’s any cab companies around Blue Moon that wouldn’t take less than an hour to get here?”

Sean froze as the shadows deep in the corners of the room seemed to coalesce, gathering into a strange, long column that looked almost like a human figure. The shadow figure moved toward Ava, its dark density withstanding even the firelight as it floated closer and closer until a tendril of shadow seemed to reach out to touch her hair.

“I’ll drive you!” Sean shouted, jumping to his feet. To his relief, the shadow dispersed to simmer in the corners again.

Robert and Declan looked startled. Ava jumped then stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

“Uhhh, okay then,” she said, carefully edging toward the door, then turning and almost running out of the library to the front door.

“We’ll cut through the woods and be there before you arrive,” Declan said.

“We’ll take turns watching the cottage day and night until we can get her here,” Robert added. “We can’t let anything happen to her.”

Just the idea of something hurting Ava made Sean’s throat constrict.

“Lighten up,” Declan advised him, shaking his shoulder a little bit. “We all feel that way, but we can talk about it later. Right now, we have to get her to trust us. You’re the funny one. At least try to get her to like you, to relax a little around you.”

A sense of relief at having something he could do to help and protect Ava washed through Sean, and he found himself grinning.

“You mean use my natural charm and animal good looks to sweep her off her feet?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, just don’t get carried away or she might give you a dog biscuit,” Robert said drily.

“Bow wow,” Sean replied with a grin then ran to the front door to meet Ava and walk her to his car.

* * * *

Ava had meant to be silent. Silent, aloof, reserved, withdrawn, in high dudgeon. That was generally the best plan with chauvinistic nutcases. The only thing was that Sean Molineaux was so nice, she couldn’t help but smile.

She also couldn’t help but sink into the heated leather seats of Sean’s SUV as they drove down the long gravel driveway to the road. The driveway passed through thick forest, giving her the sense that the mansion was like Sleeping Beauty’s castle, locked away from the world by an impenetrable wall of vines.

“So, what brings you to Blue Moon?” Sean asked with a grin. “Tourist season is clearly over, unless you came for the rain.”

“Actually,” Ava said, smiling a little, “I did come for the rain, in a way. I’m here to finish my dissertation. I’m afraid I dawdled over the summer, and now, it’s crunch time.”

“Wow,” Sean exclaimed. “Dissertation? For a PhD? What’s the topic?”

“Perceptions of and reactions to gender differences in demonic possession in seventeenth century New England.”

Was it just her, or did Sean’s hands tighten on the steering wheel? It was too dark to tell for sure, but for a moment in the dim glow of the dashboard, his face seemed to grow tight and grim. She blinked, and it was gone.

“Do you believe in that stuff?” he asked lightly, but this time, she was positive she heard the tension in his voice.

“No.” She laughed. “Of course not. Demonic possession was a convenient way to explain social deviance and mental illness. Most of the unfortunate women who were executed during the Salem witch trials were either living outside the social norm or had property that someone else wanted. That set of criteria had a deep set of roots in European society, and it appears to have come over on the Mayflower along with the pilgrims and rats.”

Ava stopped, biting her lip. She had a terrible habit of starting to sound professorial anytime anyone asked her a question. It was embarrassing for her and undoubtedly tiresome for the other person. It was definitely not the way to make a hit at a cocktail party, unless it was a party with academics. In which case, it was probably a shitty party to start with. Hell, it was definitely not the way to make friends. Not that she wanted to make friends with Sean. Far from it. No, she’d be happy if she never saw any of the Molineaux brothers again.

Except that was a lie.

Something she couldn’t explain had bloomed inside her. It was a feeling of ease and contentment that she had never experienced, even on a lazy summer Sunday afternoon with a glass of wine and a book. Being with these three strange men was like finally being home. She couldn’t explain it rationally, and that terrified her more than anything. Even if she did stay away from them, she knew she would be thinking of them, seeing their faces…their golden-amber eyes every minute of her day and night.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that there might be something to all the hocus-pocus?” Sean asked, interrupting her thoughts and breaking the brief silence that had fallen on them.

She looked out the window at the black wall of forest that lined the narrow, twisting road. She noted that they had turned left out of the driveway.

“I get that question all the time because of my topic,” she replied. “It’s a natural and hopeful question because people seem to want desperately some kind of proof of magic or the afterlife. But, I’m a historian. You need a quantum physicist if you want to start talking about energy, time, and space, which are probably the root cause of what we think of as ‘paranormal activity.’ Personally, I am reserving judgment. I think science still has a lot to discover and demystify for us. Just like seven hundred years ago, we believed comets were omens from God, rather than billion-year-old chunks of ice hurtling through space. Both concepts are miraculous in their own way, but only one is grounded in fact.”

Ava stopped abruptly, realizing she was doing it again.

“Sorry,” she said. “I tend to get carried away. Common failing for academics. We’re smart, but terrible conversationalists.”

“No,” Sean replied quietly. “I like to hear you talk. I could listen to you all day long and all ni…I’ve never met a woman like you before.”

“You can’t throw a rock in Harvard Square without hitting one,” she said with a laugh. “I’m a dime a dozen in Cambridge.”

“I think you’re pretty damn unique.”

Was she hearing things? Was there really an animal-like growl in Sean’s voice? She shivered involuntarily, both fear and desire jolting through her body at the sound of power and possessiveness in his growl. No, it wasn’t a growl. It was probably just a frog in his throat. Still. No. No, she had to be sensible. Everything could be explained.

“What road are we on?” she asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

“Long Road,” Sean replied. “Unfortunately, Blue Moon was never very creative about street names. Long Road runs six miles from the turnoff of Route 73 to the water’s edge.”

“Long Road?” Ava repeated, stunned. “But then, West Road is just at the end of it, right by the water!”

“Yup, in about a half mile, we’ll be turning left onto West Road.”

“Then your property backs up onto the forest behind White Farm?”

There it was again, the quick tightening of his expression, the white knuckles on the steering wheel.

“Yeah,” he replied with forced easiness. “We’re less than a mile from White Farm if you follow the path through the woods.”

“But I did,” Ava exclaimed.

Her voice trailing off as she tried to reconcile the fact she had left the cottage at 12:15 p.m. for a quick walk before lunch, and somehow, almost four hours had elapsed before she had emerged onto the lawn of the Molineaux estate.

Losing track of time was one thing, but it hadn’t
felt
like she had been walking for hours and hours. She would have sworn that she had only been walking for maybe a half hour. She had only gotten lost when the path seemed to have disappeared into piles of dead leaves and mud, and she had tried to guess her way. Even so, the forest between the two properties was sandwiched between the sea and the houses. It simply couldn’t be big enough to get lost in for four hours!

The lurch of the SUV as it turned left onto West Road and began bumping along the rutted dirt and gravel path brought her back to the present. The headlights threw beams of light straight ahead, but that only made the darkness on either side deeper, pressing in harder against the car.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how absolutely dark it is out here at night,” she observed, trying to change the subject again. “In Boston, nighttime is just a little dimmer version of daylight. Here, the dark feels so…so thick. Impenetrable.”

“I don’t like the dark, either,” Sean said, a strange, almost sad smile on his beautiful, sculpted mouth.

“Afraid of the things that go bump in the night?”

“Yes, and you should be, too.”

Ava laughed.

“I’m not joking. Don’t go out at night here.”

“Oh, and what hobgoblin is going to come get me?”

“Well, since you don’t believe in ghosts, how about bears, foxes, and wolves?”

“Oh.”

“Well, okay, some of the wolves around here are pretty tame, actually,” Sean amended with a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about them.”

“I don’t have to worry about the wolves?”

“Hey, wolves are just big dogs. Give them a cookie, and they’ll be yours for life.”

“Right.”

Sean laughed out loud as he pulled into the driveway of the cottage. He stopped the car, and Ava unhooked her seat belt. Before she could open the door and hop out for herself, Sean was pulling the door open and reaching in to help her get down. Wait, how had he gotten to her side of the car so fast? She hadn’t even noticed him get out.

She certainly noticed him, though, when he reached in and picked her up in his arms to lift her out of the SUV. He was incredibly strong, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. His arms were unforgiving steel bands around her as he pressed her close to him. He was granite, every inch of him, and she could feel every inch against her body. Her heart fluttered frantically as her body slipped helplessly into heat and need.

He was all man, and she could feel him hard against her hips. Her body was alive with tingling sensations and a throbbing between her legs as his erection pressed against her. His hand slipped up to cradle her cheek. She was caught by the light in his golden eyes, the way they seemed to burn like flames with an intensity that lay just below the surface of Sean Molineaux’s happy-go-lucky mask.